


a bottle of his cologne

by strawberricream



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Daddy Kink, F/M, Falling In Love, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Sex, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26398093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberricream/pseuds/strawberricream
Summary: as a general rule of thumb, matsukawa separated work and pleasure. at the young age of 26, he and a group of friends managed to build a multimillion dollar empire. but really, he thinks, it’s funny—money doesn’t buy you everything, does it?
Relationships: Matsukawa Issei/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 147





	a bottle of his cologne

**Author's Note:**

> a big thank you to cas (tumblr @karasunosimp) for fanning the flames of my thirst for this impeccable man!! (♡´艸`) this is heavily based off this one thing she said to me when i was thirsting in her inbox about sugar daddy!mattsun because i legit could not keep it out of my mind after i read it: “mattsun? 100% in love with you. but good luck getting him to admit it.”

as a general rule of thumb, matsukawa separated work and pleasure. at the young age of 26, he and a group of friends managed to build a multimillion dollar empire. but really, he thinks, it’s funny—money doesn’t buy you everything, does it?

he’s tired, tired of interacting with eye-candy that were pretty in appearances only, thinking that, if they played their cards right, they’d be able to sink into his pockets. it’s kinda sad, kinda funny. but he doesn’t really know how else to find someone a little more genuine, a little more real.

(“knowing you, you’d work yourself to death and just give us a peace sign before you died,” iwaizumi grunted.

he smirked. “nah, i’d give you the finger. the peace sign is takahiro’s shit.”

hanamaki laughed aloud, almost tipping over his glass of wine.)

good thing he didn’t have to look far.

you’re a pretty little thing, just a bit shy. your university held a networking event for upcoming graduates and matsukawa was forced to attend because iwaizumi had jetted off to the states. he didn’t really understand why one of the founders had to appear for something so insignificant.

(“it’s called being personable, mattsun!” oikawa had bristled. “how many other multinational companies have their ceos attend networking events?”)

none. so why did he have to? it’s not like they were short on applicants either. and who cares if this is some fancy school? he dropped out of university half-way. matsukawa doesn’t care for the whole hiring local thing, but it’s a necessity—a form of social business model, or a clever cover up for social capitalism he’d say.

you had glanced at their set-up numerous times, but never came forth, much to his dismay, so he was forced to listen to some of your fellow students kiss his ass and tell him how much he was an inspiration to them or what they thought about the latest market trends as if their opinions mattered.

thankfully, he managed to excuse himself to the washrooms. coming out, he saw you patting at your blouse, throwing wet paper towels into the trash can. you didn’t look hurt, but the caramel brown stain on your white blouse and the splotches of it on the ground sprinkled with a few ice-cubes had said iced-coffee.

wearing his million dollar smile, matsukawa asks if you’re alright, do you need any help?

you smile shyly back at him, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you tell him you’re fine, someone just accidentally ran into you.

he takes the chance to replace your coffee. walking back to his company’s table in the event room, he gets to learn a little more about you. surprisingly, he enjoys himself more than he’d admit. you don’t pretend to know everything and let him speak without interruption. the way you look at him star-eyed and ask him questions about things you don’t understand does nothing but brush his ego and satiate his pride.

he manages to keep you in contact and pulls you in for dates here and there, slowly building consistency. he finds it almost exhilarating to give you what you need as you were always modest, with hesitation lined in your actions everytime he paid for something or gave you a gift. perhaps it was just that made him keep coming back to you.

so your relationship started. he pays for school, a nice apartment, gives you a heavy allowance and dresses you in the finest threads because half the time he’s with you, he thinks you were made for him. he finds himself hung up on every little thing you say, every gesture of affection you give him and it settles deep into his lungs giving him the satisfaction he couldn’t find from his cuban cigars. nearly everything he does is done with a small undercurrent of affection.

you get hooked too; it was comforting and so relieving having someone already so experienced and knowledgeable helping you with school and giving you guidance. someone that you trusted, perhaps a little naively. but who could blame you? matsukawa issei was intoxicating with his tailored suits, expensive watches, pure tungsten rings all on a statue of sin incarnate. his velvet voice, dark eyes and the way he always kept a hand on you makes your heart flutter.

the first gift you ever asked of him was a bottle of the cologne he wore.

he had chuckled, leaving a soft kiss on your temple. “can’t keep me off your mind, can you, princess?”

you blushed, but looked right at him as you said, “no, no, i can’t.”

you had tucked your head into his shoulder in embarrassment, missing the flush of colour that graced his face, mistaking the grip on your waist for pure possessiveness.

when he invites you to one of his luxury condos in the wealthy suburb of akasaka, you don’t say no.

he has his driver pick you up after school and send you up. you walk in and are floored by the layout of the place—high ceilings, pristine furniture, a breathtaking look of the city below and him, nursing a glass of wine as he stands by the kitchen.

“matsukawa-san?”

he turns around, smile on his face as you rush over and throw your arms around his waist. he chuckles at your eagerness.

he asks you about your day and you, his. it’s always felt a little silly to you: you were stuck in the same concrete walls day in and day out while he got to travel across the country, the world and get paid while doing so. you wonder how long he’d keep this going for—how long until he left you behind for something more beautiful, more on his level, better suited for him.

but you don’t want that. no, no, you don’t. the last year has felt like a dream, and maybe it was. but you like to think the toothbrushes you bought together in complementary colours that stand next to each other in his washroom mean something. you like to think that all the mundane things that aren’t so mundane when they’re with him are more than temporary, more than a business transaction.

“princess?”

“hm?” you look up, fork in your mouth.

“what’s on your mind?” he murmurs, hand brushing through your hair.

you swallow the lump in your throat. “just my group project,” you lie. “one of my group members never seems to be online when we need him to be.” a half-lie. you really did wish that guy would answer his messages.

he hums, bringing you closer to him, mindful of the bowl in your lap. you put it down on the coffee table, scooting closer to him. he takes in the scent of your body soap—his, to be exact, that you used earlier. he relishes in the way you smell like him now, can’t help the giddiness he feels seeing you in something of his. it’s why you were in one of his soft, silk blend shirts.

“you’re lying, aren’t you, baby?”

and suddenly, your tongue is heavy. how did he know?

“i can tell.”

mind reading too?!

he cups your cheek, making you look up at him. “you make it so easy.”

you pout. “no, i don’t.”

“you sure?” he trails his hands up your thighs, the silver of his rings leaving cool trails as you shiver.

“i wouldn’t lie to you, daddy,” you whisper.

he raises a brow, pulling you into his lap as he slowly unbuttons the dress shirt, eyes greedily taking in your exposed skin.

“i’m a good girl,” you insist. you know it’s futile, knows that he hates it when you hide things from him. his face is unreadable and it makes your insides churn.

“i know. i know you’re a good girl, princess,” he repeats, hands skimming across your torso to settle on your hips. “so tell daddy what you were really thinking about.”

he doesn’t like it. doesn’t like not knowing, not when he’s—he hesitates, taking a deep breath—not when he’s come to feel this way for you.

you don’t say anything, looking away. you’ve never hidden anything from him, always let him take control so to have you acting out has his mood souring.

he sighs, taking you off his lap and standing up, hiding the dull throb of his heart.

“i’ll call the driver to take you home.”

the nonchalant tone in his voice has you whipping your head over to him as the fear of abandonment creeps into your skin.

“w-wait!”

he doesn’t turn around as he picks up his blazer and puts it on. your weak begs, apologies and cries of his name do nothing. no, no, no. the pain in your chest balloons seeing how easy it is for him to leave you behind, to throw you away. tears line your eyes as your throat tightens.

all the clouds in you start to rain.

“i-issei,” you whimper.

he turns around, eyes wide, the air in his lungs knocked out of him. he tries to keep his face neutral, impassive, but it crumbles when he sees yours is one of absolute heartbreak.

“i-i’m sorry,” you gasp. “i-i just—i don’t know what we are. you’ve never introduced me to your friends or anyone or called me your girlfriend so i keep thinking this, this is a fling and—.” you take a deep breath, wiping away your tears. “i’m scared,” you whisper. “scared of you leaving me.”

he takes a breath, looking at your vulnerable state. he can’t see your face clearly with your hands up and he wonders if that’s what you’ve been seeing with all of his lazy smiles and seductive glances that he used around you. to keep him safe, he thought. he should have known better.

dragging the blade deeper into his chest, you add in soft sobs, “i’m sorry, p-please don’t leave me.”

he walks back to you, pulls you into his arms as he soothes you. he nudges your arms away from your face, wiping away your tears before carrying you into the bedroom.

he lays you down gently on the soft linen sheets. his hands gently caress your soft body as he hovers over you, the only thing in your line of light.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he says, voice low and clear. “not as long as you’ll have me, princess.”

your heart blooms, chest fluttering in happiness, but a seed of insecurity still sits in you, threatening to flower.

“r-really?”

he strokes your cheek, suffusing your skin with sparks that linger on far beyond what’s possible.

he chuckles softly. “i’ll give you my whole fortune, baby.”

your breath hitches. “wha—?”

his hands brush softly against your waist. “have i ever lied to you, princess?”

you blush, turning your head away in shame, but he brings it back with a hand on your cheek. he leans down to kiss at your neck, nibbling on your earlobe. you smell good: warm, familiar, his.

he smells good, like that bottle of cologne you still have sitting on your desk—smells like him, like home.

“you’re ridiculous,” you whisper. your throat feels tight—could what he said be considered a confession of love?

his hands slide across your thighs, your stomach, waist, ribs, breasts, all before he starts fingering your pussy again.

“you love it,” he says, lips ghosting your cheek as you keen underneath him.

“oh!” your back arches when he inserts one of his beautifully long fingers inside. “daddy!”

he loves that nickname, makes his blood boil, but today, he wants to hear the other one.

“that’s not it, baby,” he mumbles, thumb on your clit, lavishing a path of kisses on your torso.

“wha—?”

another finger. your eyes close at the stretch.

“my name, baby. open your eyes.”

you whine, opening your eyes to look at him as he finger fucks you silly. his eyes are blacker than the night now, pupils blown out wide.

you take a bold step into those depths.

“issei.”

he hums, lips curling into a smile. he loves the way you say his name, so different, so intimate. with a soft brush against your g-spot, he pulls his fingers out, leaving you clenching around nothing.

“i-issei!”

you cling onto his arms, filling his heart with pure adoration and primal satisfaction at the thought of you being unable to function without him.

“just a minute, princess.”

he strips himself elegantly, giving you a front row seat to all his glory: the muscles on his arms, shoulders and torso, the ridiculously attractive way in which he takes off his rings and wrist watch all have your thighs clenching. and when he kneels above you, as bare as you are, you can’t help but think you don’t deserve him. it’s not often that he strips down with you when you’re getting dirty, but you don’t mind it at all.

he admires you laying on the wide expanse of his bed, hair framing your pretty face, expensive sheets curled around your bare body. you’re gorgeous, gold—and he’s always preferred gold over silver.

“issei,” you whisper.

he shudders, blood rushing south with the reverent way you say his name. dipping down, he places a hand on the outside of your thigh and another on your cheek as he kisses you almost feverishly. you pull him in closer, bringing your arms around his neck. you gasp against him when you feel his erection poking against your stomach.

he pulls back, leaving a kiss on the inside of your wrist before directing his attention to your soaked cunt and swollen clit. he rubs his fingers over your lips, collecting the fluids as he watches you moan and gasp. he licks a broad stripe across your pussy, pushing a finger in and suckling in your clit. you cry out, hips squirming and he puts a hand down to keep you from moving.

you pout, eyes going straight to his heavy cock as your mouth waters, desperate for him to be inside you.

“please,” you whimper.

“no,” he chides. “you’re not ready yet.” he adds another finger in and deliciously presses them against your walls.

you take a deep breath and manage to sit up, surprising him.

“oh?” he smirks. “what do we have here?”

you kiss him on the corner of his mouth, feeling his smile widen as your hands go to stroke his cock. he hisses, forehead falling to yours as he relishes in the feeling of your soft hands. but two can play at that—so he adds a third finger and curls his them inside of you, fucking them against your g-spot, watching your eyes flutter shut as you let out the sweetest moans.

“i-issei!”

“fuck, all pretty and wet and so fucking tight, the things i want to do to you.”

he takes your hands off his cock, lying you back down on the bed as he rubs himself against your thigh.

“you ready, princess?”

“yes!” you gasp breathily.

his chest heaves, desire coursing through his veins as he pushes the head of his cock inside, watching your face for any expressions of pain.

finally, you think. your nerves sing, alighting at the welcome intrusion. you choke out his name, crossing your legs behind the small of his back as he buries himself balls deep inside you. the feeling of being so full never failing to make you lightheaded. looking up at him, his eyes are squeezed shut and redness tints his cheeks. you don’t think he’s ever looked so beautiful. a whimper bubbles up from your chest as you try to move your hips to get him to move.

“fuck, you’re such a needy little girl,” he groans, starting to drill into you.

you think you’re gonna go crazy. you can feel that one vein he has going up along the side of his cock brushing against your walls as his head punishes your insides. he finds your sweet spot in no time, knowing your body far better than you ever could as you’re left a pathetic mess underneath him.

“ah! i-issei, daddy, please! you fill me so well—so hot and big and—mm!”

“yeah?” he chuckles, voice strained from the feeling of your throbbing insides. “does your pretty little pussy feel good, baby?“

you nod, words failing you. he grunts, tapping your legs and you let go of him, letting him open up your legs so that he can fuck you better, stronger. you keen as he resumes his punishing pace—the sounds of flesh slapping and your messy core filling the room.

“fuck, babygirl, you’re so good to me.”

he can feel your accelerated heartbeat pulsing through your fluttering walls gripping his cock. he groans appreciatively, pressing himself closer to you. it’s not enough his cock is enveloped with your velvety walls, your fingers on his skin as he cages you with his frame. he doesn’t know what exactly it is of you that brings out this insatiable desire from him. he laughs to himself, thinking about how you had him wrapped around your little finger without you knowing and finding it amusing that he doesn’t mind it so much himself.

your eyes are glassy, mouth agape as incoherent praises, his name and cries of “daddy!” tumble out of your mouth. but what makes his heart soar the most is the soft “i love you” that finds it way past your heavy tongue.

it’s a slip, not a mistake, something that you kept near and dear to your heart. you brace for silence, for disappointment. your eyes meet his, wet with tears, almost begging him to say anything.

“baby,” he mutters, thrusts never down, still hitting deliciously deep as his dark eyes bore into yours. “you’ve had my heart since the very beginning.”

you hiccup, tears flowing like crystals out of your eyes at the look on his face and the adoration-filled baritone of his voice. he presses his chest into yours, kissing your lips softly. a hand comes to play with your clit as his thrusts pick up again. your head is a mess. and it doesn’t get any clearer when he leans down, face right in front of yours as he rumbles, “you’ve got my heart, dick and entire net worth, princess, is there anything else daddy can do for you?”

your cheeks burn as giddy happiness fills you and he smirks, delighting in your reaction. you’re undone with a final hit to your sweet spot and your body spasms as your orgasm rips through you, fire burning your skin like his words do, snaking their way into your heart and chaining it up for him and him only.

issei feels himself getting dizzy with the chorus of your cries and the dirty squelch of your love making as he fucks you through your orgasm. he half thinks he’s going insane—you look ethereal, eyes squeezed shut against the electric pleasure coursing through your body, flushed and crying out, the salacious sight of your chest pressed out, nipples peaked as your breasts bounce with each thrust.

as you shiver through your orgasm, issei comes undone, burying himself to the hilt as he spills into you. you struggle to catch your breath, but issei takes the time to take you into his arms, letting you rest against his chest as he lies back on the bed.

he stays inside you, pulling the sheets over your body as he kisses your hairline, trailing his fingers across your skin. the high rise of the building and the glass walls of his million dollar condo gives him an uncontested view of the moon, but he still finds himself unable to look away from the sight of you on his chest.

“so,” you start, voice soft. “can i call you my boyfriend now?”

he chuckles, humming affirmatively and bringing one of your hands to kiss the back of it.

“babygirl?”

you prop yourself up on your arms to get a better look at his face. “yeah?”

he flips you over, hovering over you and cupping your cheek with a hand as he looks at you lovingly.

“i love you.”

you smile beautifully, giggling softly. and as the night sky dons her gown of sheer black chiffon, issei surrounds you in his arms, feeling like the richest man in the world having your heart with his.


End file.
